


Force of nature.

by elvenwolf



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Billy is not an asshole, Bottom!Flint, Dom/sub, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone is scared of James and John, Funny, I don't know who's Joshua but he's very drunk, LIKE SO MUCH SMUT, M/M, Smut, so many rumors, top!Silver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 16:57:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11582316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elvenwolf/pseuds/elvenwolf
Summary: He’s a dark shadow, even darker with the night sky behind him, it makes James surrender and he allows himself to stare a little longer.





	Force of nature.

            It all happened so fast, but at the same time so slowly that there’s no person, not onboard the Walrus, not on Nassau, who doesn’t speak of it.

            But the truth is no one really knows how it happened, or at what point it became so real. So when they speak of it, there’s a cloud of uncertainty and mystery fogging their words, as if the mist soaked them in dangerous truth.

            No one knows at what point Silver stopped being a blur, somewhere in the same room as Flint, but always in his shadow. No one knows at what point the tables turned and Flint became a blur on the background, silent under Silver’s newfound authority. No one knows at what point both of them started to become a blur so strangely distorted that the whole world around them lost its stability; as if the energy they radiated had the ability to manipulate the very foundations of reality, forcing people to look away but at the same time unable to stop themselves from stealing a glance from the corner of their eyes, wondering if that dangerous, unrestrained feeling still floated around the two pirates when they thought no one else was looking.

            They were an unstoppable force together; there was no ship, no captain, no crew that didn’t flinch at the sound of their names. It was like the crash of a storm and a calm sea, deadly but silent. No one saw them coming until it was too late to stop the thunder and the massive waves, until their shadows hovered over them.

            On Billy’s most honest opinion, things were getting a bit out of control amongst the men. Sometimes the theories and stories and rumors were simply absurd, even when they were a work of fiction.

            Tonight was one of those nights in which the tavern was full of stories and lacking common sense. James and John were sitting on the furthest corner, drinking as they decided the next route for the Walrus to take.

            Billy, Gates, Muldoon, Eleanor and De Groot were almost on the opposite corner, mostly to avoid the windows that rattled and threatened to shatter with the force of the storm. The captain and quartermaster seemed to prefer the deafening noise, probably to mute the drunk conversations and shouts around them, perhaps because they felt more comfortable surrounded by something that was beyond human control.

             If Billy had to roll his eyes once more he was sure they were going to pop off of its sockets and roll out of the building. Did people seriously not fucking see that James and John were on the _same fucking tavern as them_?

             “I heard that the sea made them fall in love.”

             “Don’t be stupid, they are straight up fucking.” The comment took Eleanor off guard and she choked on her drink, Gates laughed sympathetically at her.

             “You don’t look at a quick fuck like they look at each other.” Well, Billy thought, the man had a point there.

             “That’s a load of bullshit! You look at me just like that when I’m cooking some pig.” There was an explosion of laughter that not even James and John tried to hide, which made them even more invisible to the people around them as they didn’t stand out for being the only ones who hadn’t laughed.

             Suddenly, Billy groaned, annoyed by a particular dumb comment, and the author turned around so quickly he spilled half of his cup over himself.

            “What, you don’t believe me?” Billy only looked at him, making his opinion clear enough with just his eyes. The man seemed really offended. “How would you explain it then, huh?”

            “Definitely not by calling them “embodiments of the storm”, that’s for sure.” People laughed, and the man frowned.

            “Y’all disembark on the island and suddenly a storm appears, what d’you call that then, huh?”

            “Thinking.” Gates blurted out. “We are at sea, we see a storm coming, we seek refuge. Preferably **_not_** at sea.”

             For a second the laugher overtook the sound of the storm. Eleanor rubbed her eyes, refusing to fall victim of sleep when Nassau was so alive that she could almost forget the reality of their situation. For once, she was going to enjoy her extremely crowded, noisy and smelly tavern, because she could barely remember the last time she had seen so many people have fun in the healthiest way a pirate could have fun. That’s it, if she pushed aside the extremely unhealthy amounts of alcohol being ingested.

             James, on the other side, was having a competition with the violin strings on one of the tables to see who would snap first. John brushed his knee against him to catch his attention. There was a mischievous smile on his face.

            “Come on, captain,” he talked, only loud enough for James to hear, “let them talk. The more they fuel the rumors, the higher the number of white flags we’ll see raising up as we sail by.”

            “ _Straight up fucking_?” James repeated in a low roar, earning a muffled laugh from John that made his body shake, suddenly reminding the captain that John’s knee still rested against his.

             John was about to answer when another conversation made him forgot what he was going to say. James watched as his blue eyes glued to his own, but his focus directed to somewhere else; to the table at the other side of the beam, preventing him to see the customers that drank there. James’s problem had always been his curiosity, and so he tried to listen.

             “…I tell you, they are.”

             “Joshua, you’re fucking pissed.” His friend laughed, although his voice was tainted with confusion.

             “I saw it with my own eyes!” Someone tried to shush him, but he paid no attention. “The captain fell, and the other jumped into the fucking sea to get him out.”

             “Well, _it’s the fucking_ _captain_.” Someone answered, stating the most obvious thing.

             “Please, don’t.” James heard John whisper, eyes closed and something that looked strangely similar to a blush creeping onto his face. James raised an eyebrow and kept listening.

             “But he brought him back to life!” The poor man whined, almost as offended as Joshua that no one was taking him seriously. “The captain wasn’t breathing, and Mr. Silver did something…” At this point James could see the wailing arms of the man popping out of behind the beam as he tried to find the right word while gesturing wildly in frustration. John had now lowered his head, which made James’ curiosity shake in anticipation. “He kissed him, and the captain was breathing again.”

             There was a silence, a beat in which the whole tavern had stopped talking the moment they heard the word “kissed”. James’ lips were pressed in a thin line, trying to contain his smirk at John’s very obvious embarrassment. If they moved, all eyes would be on them.

            “See!” There he went Joshua again. “He took the sea out of his lungs with his magic so he could breathe!”

            “It’s called recue breathing, ya fuckin’ dimwit.” Once more, the building seemed to roar with laughter.

            When Billy looked at the other corner of the room he saw a very amused James, trying to hide the smuggest smirk he had ever seen behind the metal mug filled with rum, and John’s long hair was hiding his face, hands buried in it as if he was about to start pulling at it. Next to him, Gates was _hysterical_.

            John only dared to open his eyes once the tavern was once again a hurricane of laughter, voices and the clacking of metal. He didn’t look at James, instead he found that the scattered papers on the table were the most fascinating thing in the world. He moved to reach his mug but found it had disappeared. That made him look up. James had snitched it.

            “You didn’t tell me that part.” There was a frightening glint on James eyes that made John seriously consider a stealthy escape, as stealthy as his iron leg would allow; which wasn’t exactly much. James was playing with him, which was also scarily new.

            “I saved your life.” He managed to say, reaching once more for his mug only to have it moved further away from him by the captain. The action made him lean forward, something that James mimicked, moving closer to John.

            “Please, elaborate the moment in which you made use of that magic of yours, I’m extremely curious.” John blinked and looked at James. The captain was now smiling shamelessly, all teeth and evil. This wasn’t happening. He was the one of the sarcastic retorts, not James. James was in charge of the murder threats.

            “I saved your life.” John repeated slowly, squinting his eyes. James laughed, low and genuine, biting his lower lip in an attempt to keep a straight face to continue his torture. John’s gaze moved to his mouth, unconsciously imitating James.

            James didn’t miss the way John retreated back against the chair, using the slow movement to let go of a badly disguised exhale. It was then that a thought crossed his mind, a fleeting wonder; it made him slide John’s mug back in front of him, earning a sided glance and a purposely measured pause until John grabbed his drink, making sure James had already pulled his hand away before doing so.

            A laugh that sounded more like an old dog barking caught the attention of everyone. Even James and John turned their heads to look at Joshua. The man was so drunk he was slightly swaying on his chair, gripping it tightly as if he feared it would disappear into thin air, but the seriousness of his expression caused his equally drunk mates to pay attention; and it was a chain reaction from that point. The tables around sensed the silence and quieted to listen to what was happening, and then the tables around them, and so on.

            “They say that the day the Walrus got into that storm was actually an accident.” He started, still swaying on his chair. Billy’s head hit Muldoon’s shoulder with a thud, making him giggle. “That the captain and the quartermaster were so angry at each other they caused it on accident.”

            “Bullshit.” His friend protested. Joshua blatantly ignored him.

            “And that their ship is indestructible as long as they’re on board.”

            “Oh, come on.”

            “They say that when Silver fell in the water at Roger’s barricade, the captain invoked a mermaid to rescue him.”

            “ _Joshua what the fuck_.”

            At this point John was crying of laughter, clutching his stomach with one hand and hitting the table with the other. The roaring laughter that filled the building was enough to quiet John’s. James was having a difficult time breathing, his lungs not used to perform such efforts if seawater wasn’t involved. He watched the man in front of him lose it so hard that it became contagious.

            On the table at the opposite corner Billy and the others were beyond hysterical, watching their captain and quartermaster turn into a mess of laughs and a clapping that grew faster as their guffaws hindered their ability to breathe properly. What a sight to behold.

            James took a deep breath and hit John’s hand on the table, calling him. John blinked to clear away the tears and nodded, both realizing the raining had stopped just enough for them to be able to carry all the papers safely back to James’ room at the inn. They stood up, bodies still doubling over with laughter, and seized the uncontrollable chaos of the tavern to slip away unnoticed.

            When they stepped outside the noise inside the tavern reverberating even louder out there, being completely out of place in such late hours of the night. They doubted someone on Nassau had been able to sleep. As they walked through the empty streets they felt the mud under their feet slightly give out under their weight, turning their already unsteady steps due to the rum into an almost complete lack of coordination.

            James’ room is, at least, silent. Their ears still ring with the echoes of laugher and shouts, it’s a strange mind trick and they feel their steps on the wood resonate louder than they actually do. John is opening the window, curiosity driving him to lean on it and listen, just listen. James traps the papers between the pages of a book so they don’t fly away with the rush of wind, but he’s not fast enough to curse at John and the flames on the candles dance wildly one last time before fading out in a small trail of white smoke.

            John doesn’t need any source of light to discern the murderous stare he’s being victim of.

            “If you look at the candles the same way you’re looking at me I’m certain they will light back on.”

            James releases what sounds like a breathy laugh disguised as a sigh, and he watches John. He’s still leaning on the window, facing him and resting his elbows on the wooden frame. The wind plays with his hair, sending strands everywhere, but the weight of them now that he’s let it grown so much pull them back to their initial place. He’s a dark shadow, even darker with the night sky behind him, it makes James surrender and he allows himself to stare a little longer.

            He can understand the fear John entices, he looks intimidating even to James at this moment. He reeks of danger and authority, of a self confidence that seems completely out of place in that room, of a serenity that resembles that of the sea before a storm. It sends a shiver down James’ spine. How did he not realize sooner? John Silver was made to command.  

            “What are you thinking of?” It’s a low whisper, but it reaches James anyway. He doesn’t miss the tone of his voice, mostly curiosity, but there was a hint of something else. James wonders if the silence in which he had studied the quartermaster had been loud enough for John to read his mind. He’s speaking before he’s aware of the consequences of his words.

            “You look dangerous.” There’s a long pause. John is measuring him, trying to find and decode some hidden meaning. He finds nothing even though he knows there is something, so he settles for the obvious hoping it’ll make James elaborate.

            “You can’t see me.”

            “I can feel you.” James thanks the darkness for hiding his flinch. _Great, James, very subtle._

            John exhales, loud enough for James to hear, and the captain tenses slightly. Something is about to happen and the air in the room seems to thicken, the wind seems to quiet down. John abandons his position against the window frame at the same time that James rests his hands on the edge of the table behind him, grabbing it to conceal the nervous fidgeting of his fingers. John walks to him slowly. The black figure grows bigger as he approaches, and James is too self-aware of the height difference now that he’s resting against the table. John moves as if he’s getting ready to subdue James, and he tries to contain a shiver as he realizes how he can’t bring himself to give a single fuck about it.

           “You made me dangerous.” John suddenly blames, but there’s no malice in his accusation. He’s so close James can feel the warm breath spread over his face. The next time he speaks there’s a purr on his tone that makes him sound like he’s toying with his prey. “Are you proud of your work?”

           “I am.” James clears his throat, unaware of how John tenses at his hoarse whisper.

           James is visibly trembling now. There’s no fear in his shivers, he knows John would never harm him, not now at least, after all they’ve been through. Adrenaline is starting to course through his veins and it feels all kinds of right. It’s disorienting and it awakens a submission in him that he’d only felt years ago, under the firm voice and touches of a Lord.

           For a second he thinks John understands, he rests more of his weight on the desk, making himself shorter than John. There’s a long pause in which he thinks he has misinterpreted the situation, but then a hand finds its way around the front of his neck and his breath hitches.

           “You taught me to kill,” John speaks, low and dangerous. The pressure around James’ neck tightens slightly and a wave of liquid fire sets James ablaze. He moans, pliant under John’s grip. “fast and smooth, efficiently.”

          James knows now, without a doubt, what he needs. He needs to remember what submission feels like and he trusts John enough to let him know, so he pushes against his hand and John reacts accordingly, stepping closer so he can slide his good leg between James’.

          “You prepared me to be your end.” John whispers. He feels James shiver under his grip. He can’t quite process what he’s witnessing because something switches off inside him, he’s acting out of pure instinct and James shameless docility awakens a raw need to dominate him. “But you never specified.” James lets out a sound that intends to be an inquiry but ends up being a questioning whimper. “Am I to be the end of Captain Flint, or do you simply want me to take your place?”

          James doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have an answer for that question, and even if he had it there’s something in the way John is behaving that tells him he should wait for the quartermaster to grant him permission to speak. Another shiver breaks down his spine and John pushes his leg forward, rubbing against his hardening cock. He barely contains his moan when he hears a broken sigh leave John’s lips.

          “Perhaps,” Joh wonders aloud, rubbing his thumb over James’ quick pulse. “you wanted me to grow familiar with the consequences of carrying the authority that comes with your position on the crew. To know how to make people listen, to know how to make people _obey_.” He leans in as he speaks, growling the last word right next to James’ ear, and he’s rewarded with a broken gasp.

          John is breathing hard now, completely absorbed by James’ reactions. He drinks in the way he pants, pliant and submissive, and he feels the hardness against his thigh and the evident efforts the captain makes to not surrender to the need of friction.

          “Is that what you want?” He whispers, indulging James and rubbing his leg against him, eliciting a shameless moan that makes him realize he’s just as hard as James is. He lets go of his neck. “To know if I’m capable of making people obey?”

          James nods, unable to speak as he tries to force some air into his lungs. There’s no turning back now. His mind needs to relinquish all control, and his body is responding to John’s silent orders as if he were born to do so. He surrenders completely and finds his voice at the same time his right hand launches forward and holds onto John’s shirt, pulling him closer.

          “Make me obey.” There’s so much need imprinted in his ragged breaths that John can’t help but moan, overwhelmed by the ease in which James is showing him that part of himself.

           He kisses James with the hunger of a man who has not eaten in weeks. It’s rough and raw and James is now grabbing him with both hands, burying them in John’s hair in a way that makes him groan into James’ mouth. He bites at James’ lower lip hard enough to break the skin and James cries out, pain barely recognizable amongst the pleasure. John revels in the sound and forces him further back, bending his back in what has to be an uncomfortable position, but the discomfort is forgotten the second James finds out that the new angle increases the pressure of John’s leg over his cock. They don’t remember at what point their shirts fly off somewhere in the room

           He kisses James until he fears they both might pass out due to the lack of air, and then he kisses him a bit more; moans and pants and saliva mixing together. When he pulls back James tries to chase after his mouth, but John stops him with his hand, pressing it over his chest. Still, their mouths are close enough for their lips to brush every time they breath in, and the thrill of that single touch is infuriatingly arousing.

          “Get on your knees.” He orders, smirking when James whines and instantly pushes him a step backwards so he can move away from the desk and kneel on the floor.

           The desperate need to please John is maddening. He doesn’t understand how had he denied them both of that for so long when it had been clear since the first day that there was something more than simply convenience what had pulled them together.

           James waits, hands on John’s thighs and he tries to steady his breathing. It’s a futile effort because John is pushing his chin up and his thumb slips inside his mouth, forcing it open. Their moan sounds like one and James starts to suck and lick, drawing gasps out of John that ignite something primal inside of him. He pulls away and speaks before John can react.

          “Please.” John closes his eyes for a second. He’s never been so hard and James sounds so fucking desperate it makes him dizzy.

          “Please what?” He asks. He needs to hear him; he needs fearsome Captain Flint to voice out what he so obviously wants. He needs vocal proof of that submission.

          “Let me suck your cock, _please_.” James begs, and John is moaning.

          “ _Fuck_.”

          John starts to untie his breeches but James slaps his hands away, eager to do it for him. It makes John weak, despite the obvious control he has over James right now. The way the captain can reduce him to a mess of want and heavy breathing with a simple gesture shows how much power James still has over him.

          James moans at the feeling of John’s cock on his hand, hard and hot and wet at the tip. He licks a stripe from the base to the head, sweeping his tongue over the slit to taste the precum and a pair of hands grab at the back of his head, silently asking for more. James complies and engulfs the head, closing his eyes although there’s only darkness around them. John moans and unconsciously thrusts his hips forward, marveling at the ease in which he can push deep inside James’ mouth, almost as if he doesn’t possess any gag reflex. He cries out when James swallows and his throat constricts around the head of his cock. There’s saliva sliding down the corner of James’ lips and he’s breathing hard through his nose. John wishes he could light up a candle to witness the completely wrecked state James is in.

          John feels fingers rub around his cock, right at the place where it disappears inside James’ mouth, almost as if he were spreading the saliva that gathers there. It’s just a moment and the fingers pull back, leaving John confused but too hard to waste any second thinking about it. James’ body tenses up suddenly, pulling back slightly to breathe properly and a broken moan escapes his lips. He’s moving and shifting, John can’t see what he’s doing, but he definitely knows that’s not the kind of movement he’d be doing if he were touching himself. To confirm his theory he lets his right hand drift down the back of James neck to his shoulder, and then down his arm. He stills completely when he notices that James has his arm behind his back, quickly connecting the dots and figuring it out. James is taking things to a whole new level. He is opening himself for John.

         The newfound knowledge is fucking intoxicating. It threatens to snap John’s last threads of self-control and he needs to fully pull back from James’ mouth and grip the base of his cock tightly to prevent him from coming right there. James looks up at him and stops, whining when his body complains at the lack of friction, clenching around his fingers. John is practically heaving.

         “You’re stretching yourself open for me.” It’s not a question and James moans, too overwhelmed to answer, he rests his forehead against John’s hip so he can feel him nodding. “How many?”

         “Two.” James gasps once he starts moving his fingers again. He spreads his knees so he can have more access.

          When he moves to put his mouth around John again he feels a hand around his jaw stopping him. John keeps him there, trying to listen to the addictive sounds through his own loud breathing. James understands and he gives in, putting on a show for John. He stills his hand and instead starts moving his hips up and down to fuck his fingers, it’s not nearly enough and he needs more but John is getting off on it so he obeys the silent command.

          James feels the wet and swollen tip of John’s cock slide over his lips and he sticks out his tongue to lick at it, but the grip on his jaw tightens to stop him. He understands then, and his moan is downright sinful, it makes John shiver and close his eyes. He rubs again the head of his cock against James wet and puffed-up lips, tracing their shape and wetting them even more.

         “Fuck, James.” He moans. The captain gasps at the sound of his name, fucking himself harder onto his fingers. “Put another one.”

         James whines in relief and quickly obeys. The third finger slips in easily, his muscles barely offering any resistance anymore. John is quite sure that he just heard James swallowing a sob of pleasure and he is forced to definitely pull away before he falls over the edge too soon.

         James is completely ruined. He finds the strength to push John to the side before falling forward, barely supporting himself with his free hand and desperately thrusting his hips against his fingers. John is in awe, utterly hypnotized. Now that he’s no longer in the way and that his eyes are adjusted to the darkness the night sky allows him to discern James silhouette and what he’s doing. He doesn’t understand where all of that desperation comes from, but by the looks of it James must have been bottling that need up for years, probably since Thomas.

         He watches, bewildered, as James gives in into pure pleasure. He’s sure he could cum just by watching him. He watches until it becomes too much, until the heat pooling in his lower stomach threatens to explode. John knows James cannot stand up, not in his state, so he supports himself on the table to fall to the ground, sighing when the pressure over his stump disappears once he’s on his knees. He crawls behind James and grabs his hand by the wrist, stilling his frantic movements and ripping a grunt of surprise off him. James doesn’t waste any time, he supports himself on both his hands now and shamelessly rubs his ass against John’s hard cock, panting and clawing at the wooden floor. John tries to slow him down but James suddenly raises his hips and when he lowers down the head of his cock presses against his hole, not breaching but creating a raw pressure that makes James freeze for a moment and release a broken whine.

         “Fuck, James, just let me- “

         “No, please, I need it, _now_.” James moans, pushing back until he feels the head starting to enter him. John growls menacingly and grabs his hips, hard enough to feel his knuckles crack, but it only fuels James desire and he keeps going, trembling moans making it impossibly hard for John to focus.

         “It’s going to hurt, just wait a fucking second.” He doesn’t know how he knows, he’s just aware that James needs the pain, but John is not going to be the cause of it, not that kind of pain.

         “John, please.” He’s begging and John can only understand those two words, but his whole body shakes in pleasure.

          James rests his head on his forearms and closes his eyes, moving his hips uncontrollably against the heat of John’s body. He feels the pressure on his right hip disappear and suddenly that hand lands over his ass, hard and loud, it makes James arch his back and cry out. Shock and pain and pleasure overwhelming him in such a way that he feels his eyes watering.

          John should have known better than to do that, but James’ reaction is so honest and filthy that he can’t help but repeat the action, marveling at the endless string of incoherent sounds he’s releasing. James’ cock is leaking, hanging heavy between his legs, but he doesn’t even think about touching himself, not when the promise of being completely dominated by John floats in the air.

          John pulls away before James can come back to his senses and leans over his back until his mouth brushes his ear.

         “I said stop.” He grunts, causing James to shake under him. “You will do as I say, James, _or I will make you obey_.”

         The long, loud and broken moan that James releases blurs John’s vision. He knows the whole building had heard that, and something shakes inside him in pride. James doesn’t understand why the fuck John thinks that’s the way to success in his attempts to make him control himself.

          James is allowed a few seconds to gather himself and muster all of his willpower to stay completely still as he listens to John breath heavily still over his back. He’s desperate, he needs the contact and anything and everything John will give him, he needs to completely let go but he also needs to submit to John and the conflict feels like torture.

          Fingers touch his lower lip and he opens his mouth, greedily taking them and coating them with saliva. He hears John curse and he smiles, briefly biting at the knuckles and opening his mouth when John withdraws so he doesn’t wipe away the saliva with his lips on accident. John positions himself and strokes his cock, rubbing James’ spit over it and grunting. There’s a pause in which John makes a decision, he grabs James’ ass and when the captain understands what he’s doing his cock twitches, a sob escaping his lips at the obscene and lecherous act. He feels and hears John letting his own saliva drip onto his hole and his hips start moving again, almost unconsciously, his hole clenching.

          “John, I’m begging you.” It sounds hoarse and desperate, and John shivers.

          “It’s not enough.” He teases, but he rests the head of his cock against James’ hole, creating the slightest pressure, watching as James throws his head back in the darkness.

          “Fuck me, please John.” James obeys, sending shocks of adrenaline all over John’s body. He increases the pressure until the head disappears inside James and they moan in unison, relief washing over them.

          “Rough?” He already knows the answer, but he still waits before moving. His hands drift slowly, almost dangerously, like a warning as he grabs James’ left shoulder for leverage and grips his hip with bruising force.

          “ _Yes_.” James whines.

           John pushes in, fast and smooth; just like James taught him to do. He buries himself deep inside and is barely aware of James’ shout, not registering where they are nor the fact that the window is open and the island is practically silent. He doesn’t allow them both to adjust and he bottoms out to quickly thrust back, hard and deep.

           James lets his eyes flutter shut and a tear of raw pleasure slides down his cheek. John starts a punishing rhythm and they no longer know which moans belong to whom. A thin sheen of sweat covers their bodies as the sound of skin against skin echoes in the room. John doesn’t want it to end too soon but James feels so hot and so _fucking tight_ around him, it’s driving him mad.

           John changes the angle until he feels James freeze, mouth parted open in a silent scream. It makes him suddenly aware of their surroundings and he pulls at the captain, forcing him up on his knees until his back is pressed against him. James lets his head roll back over his shoulder and it’s then when he sees the wetness on his cheeks.

          “Do you want me to stop?” He asks, slowing his hips down, but James clenches around him and rips a strangled moan off John.

          “No, fuck, _don’t stop_.” It’s a whisper and it sounds broken and ruined, it has been too long since the last time James felt like this and he’s willing to start another war if John dares to stop.

           However, he doesn’t pick up the pace. He focuses on the way James closes his eyes now that the moon is starting to appear on the corner of the window. He fucks him slow, not to tease, but to just _feel_. To savor every shudder and whimper, every moan. To swipe his tongue over the salty tear, groaning when James throws his right arm back to grab at his hair. He’s impossibly hard inside James and when he traces his fingers around the head of James’ engorged cock they are wet with precum. He feels the captain’s eyes on him as he moves his fingers into his own mouth and licks, tasting James.

          “Faster.” James whines, shaking and gasping at the sight.

          “No.”

           There’s a moan that sounds like complaint and pleasure at the same time, and John knows that despite needing it rough James also needs John to control him. He kisses and bites at his shoulder and neck, sometimes it’s a light touch, sometimes it’s hard and needy and it leaves a mark on his freckled skin. The slow drag of his cock inside James makes it all so much more intense, so much more intimate, to the point where they might actually cum just like that.

           James clenches around him, trying to coax John to move faster, and he manages to get him to fuck him harder at least. John bottoms out slowly and then thrusts back in hard and deep enough to push James forward. A hand covers his mouth but even then he doesn’t process how loud his moans are. It has the opposite effect, the authority in that gesture makes him shake and cry out, the sound being effectively muffled. He feels the tightness on his lower stomach, the heat, and his fast breathing becomes a frantic heaving. His hips start to move back against John and he cannot bring himself to stop James because he’s just _so fucking close_ , and the obvious frenzy that overcomes James shows him he’s not the only one.

           He moans low against the freckled shoulder, hips stuttering and fucking James fast, hard, just like he wants to. He needs James to cum first, he doesn’t know why, but he does know how to push him over the edge.

           He licks his way up to James’ ear, feeling him tremble.

          “Who would have thought,” he grunts, rough and low. James tenses. “that you could be such a _submissive whore_.”

           James doubles over, the force of his orgasm making him cry out against John’s hand, breathy and broken sobs leaving his mouth as his cock twitches and white stripes of cum paint the floor. John is so overwhelmed by his reaction that he has no other choice but to move his hand from James’ mouth to his own, trying to quiet his loud moan as he thrusts in one more time, coming deep inside James.

           By the time they manage to steady their breaths the moon is fully visible on the window. John leaves a soft kiss on James’ shoulder, slowly pulling away from him. They wince slightly and James leans to the side and onto the floor to not fall over his release. He rests over his back and throws an arm over his face.

           “Are you alright?” John asks, concern spreading over his face. When he receives no answer he lays next to James, propped up on his elbow and moving away his arm with his free hand. There are tears on his eyes, and John’s concern grows. “James?”

           The captain says nothing, he just grabs John by the back of his head and pulls him down into a slow kiss. John sighs and lets James regain control, but James doesn’t make use of it. There’s no need to establish any kind of dominance now, so they just enjoy the feeling of each other’s lips. Anxiety starts growing inside of them now that their own personal storm is over; they had definitely been too fucking loud. The worry doesn’t stay for long as exhaustion settles in and they barely manage to make it to the untouched bed. They actually had forgotten that there was a bed until now.

           

 

            It’s not until a few weeks pass by that that James decides to instill fear inside everyone who still thinks it’s a good idea to gossip and wonder about what happened that night on Nassau every time they walk by. So that day, when a battle takes place on the shores of an unknown beach, he and John fight as one; they become everything people say and press their backs together, attacking and dodging at the right times. The shouts of rage and pain are louder than the waves, and when James turns around he sees blood on John’s face and he knows he looks just like him. They stare at each other and something changes, it makes people falter and look, both enemy and friend. John’s eyes momentarily direct at one point over James’ right shoulder and he pulls out his gun, firing it at the same moment James moves an inch to the left. It’s a kind of coordination that frightens people because it holds a power not many have the privilege to experience.

           James takes two steps forward and grabs John by the back of his head, pulling him into a searing kiss that John returns with a knowingly smile. When they pull apart the crew is roaring, delighted by the effect it had over their enemies, and the battle is over soon after.

          They make sure there are enough survivors left to tell the story.

          James and John are a force of nature, they’re beyond human control.

**Author's Note:**

> It took me longer than usual to write this because every time I write a fic about this show all that I can come up with is sadness and pain and oh god so much angst. But it was so funny to write this one!
> 
> Don't hesitate to tell me if I made any mistakes, English is not my first language. As always, comments are truly appreciated! I hope y'all like it <3.


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